


I Can't Believe It's Vampire Cap!

by Liondragon (Sameshima_Shuzumi)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Tower, Blood Drinking, Dubiously consensual Sharing of Bodily Fluids, Gen, Humor, Medical Inaccuracies, Mildly Dubious Consent, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, References to Blade, Rhodey Knows, Steve Rogers Fashion Disaster, Steve Rogers Lies, Temporary Character Death, Tony Screams, Vampires, bruce loves his science, the real godfather of the MCU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:26:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sameshima_Shuzumi/pseuds/Liondragon
Summary: Steve seemed less traumatized-mad-vampire than... truant schoolboy. "There wasn't much difference in body temperature. Perceptually.""Fascinating," said Bruce, trying to keep his science-boner down."I got bored. And then I learned how to astral-project."The implications dawned, so to speak. "OH MY GOD," Tony screamed.





	I Can't Believe It's Vampire Cap!

**Author's Note:**

> Or: in the same vein as [Stiofán Dubh](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8302852/chapters/19014151), except shorter. Characters not mine, canon not mine and not necessarily endorsed, and has canon contradicted this, _really_? Who can say! Unauthorized duplication and distribution prohibited. Do not test yourself for vampire powers.

It was a sad, terrible, downer of a day. Gutted as they were, the Avengers had to spill the details to the rest of the world sooner or later. On the bright side, Bucky Barnes had finally turned up. The grateful president had pardoned him on the spot. On the moodily, horrible, gloomy side, he had arrived on the heels of the news that would soon span the globe: Steve Rogers lay cold and dead in the morgue.

The Avengers convened at the Tower's penthouse bar. At the epicenter of their ponderous grief was Barnes. The others were reassuring him that he couldn't possibly have come sooner. It was easier than dwelling on the fact that every last one of them had been too late.

At which point, someone knocked on the doors leading out to the Quinjet landing pad.

A dozen weapons sprang out from an assemblage already on edge.

Before Tony could activate security protocols, not only were override codes applied, but JARVIS let the doors swing wide open.

"Bucky! I can't believe you're here!"

"Steve. I can't believe you're alive," answered Barnes, with a thousand times less joy and effusive wonder. And about three more guns.

"Uh, about that," said Steve. He was in hot pink and black scrubs adorned with dancing chartreuse skeletons. His hair was not only littered with battle debris, it now looked... windblown. "I'm actually a little undead."

Natasha's aim did not waver. "That's not in your file."

"Nope, nope, nope," agreed Clint.

Without comment, Rhodey got into the War Machine armor. The clunky process would take a while, but there was a whole room of people to decimate before he got eaten. He knew his horror tropes.

Steve shrugged. He seemed awfully sheepish. For an undead guy.

Thor kept his hammer between himself and the undead, always a good policy. Once it was clear that neither Tony nor Sam could muster voice to ask if Steve's arms were tired — in part because he might have actually flown there — the Asgardian spoke. "I did not know that Hydra could animate the dead."

"Undead," corrected Steve.

"And no, they cannot," said Barnes. "For the record, I do not recall you being undead."

"It happened, after," began Steve. "I was going after you, as a matter of fact. Took us a few days to break camp and secure Zola for pickup. I, uh, made a break for it to look for you."

"Alone. In the Alps. Before the spring thaw," Barnes clarified.

"Sounds fake," said Sam. Tony let out a high pitched whimper-snicker.

Steve forged on. "Remember Howard's latest iteration of the uniform? Had the," he waved around his collarbone. "Like miniature scale mail?"

"Yeah. I saw it hung up at the museum..." Barnes was narrowing his eyes.

"The ninja hoodie armor," Clint automatically supplied, with an air of a man who had been informed of the uniform's provenance and associated serial number, and would ever after call it _the ninja hoodie armor_.

Steve was attempting his best puppy-dog-piddled-and-was-mournful look; he was too peaky, and his audience too lately _in mourning_ to make it work. "I left the armor behind."

"Of course you did."

"Of course he did."

"I went incognito!" (Nat snorted.) "I got down to the valley, and started tracking a set of footprints, thinking it had to be you, and... it wasn't. So, er, my neck was unprotected when I stumbled on the vampires."

"Oh my god," said Tony.

"I'm really sorry!" Steve continued to grovel to Bucky. "I panicked, and doubled back to base camp. Er, I mostly flew. Nearly staked myself on the pine trees—"

"Oh my god," repeated Tony, unwisely grabbing Natasha. "This explains why he can't dress himself."

"Oh my god," agreed Natasha.

"—and when I got back, they'd debriefed Zola, and we had to stop Schmidt's plan, and I never got to go back. I should've pushed on," said Steve.

"Are you saying mirrors don't work on him?" said Bruce. Who wasn't great at dressing himself in any incarnation, but was well aware that a mirror helped.

"Pushed on so you could... feast on him?" said Sam.

Steve made a face. It didn't come with a blush.

"Why am I experiencing the urge to say: only you, Steve. Vampires," said Barnes flatly. "You forgot to mention the vampires."

"It was a misunderstanding! They were fleeing the Nazis. And the Soviets, too, at that point."

"No, no, he has a reflection, see," Tony held up the two-thirds empty liquor bottle, "That's ridiculous, that's light bouncing off him, he's shiny enough, I mean not _sparkly_..."

Sam clapped his free hand on his brow. "You stopped to help a group of fleeing vampires, didn't you. That's how you got bit."

Tony continued, "I'm saying he can't see his _own_ reflection."

Clint was getting tired of holding the draw on his bow. "You mean he has no idea how tiny his shirts are?"

Steve was diverted from undead groveling. "My shirts aren't the right size?!"

"Called it," Tony announced.

"You didn't notice how tight they were around...?" Sam said, mimicking a chest exam.

"Natasha! You said they fit perfectly!"

"I was a public servant. It was a public service."

Barnes turned to Natasha. "Do I remember you? Because I like you."

"Offer her a fistbump," suggested Clint. "Like, make a fist. Now, offer."

"Clint," Natasha hissed. But she relented. Fists were bumped without compromising targeting. "Steve. You un-ironically wore khakis."

"We were going to bury you in khakis," said Tony.

Meanwhile Bruce was perturbed. "But why only his own reflection?"

Rhodey, in War Machine, waved a cannon around. "You would think. I mean, serum, right?"

"So let me get this straight, you downed that plane and _you were a vampire?_ " Barnes had successfully retrieved the are-you- _stupid_ expression of his bygone youth.

"It wasn't your fault, Buck," said Steve. Which did not address the question.

Thor was horrified. "Were you awake when you froze?"

Sam threw his hands up. "Aw, why can't we stick with one layer of nightmare fodder?"

"I hibernated at first," said Steve. He seemed less traumatized-mad-vampire than... truant schoolboy. "There wasn't much difference in body temperature. Perceptually."

"Fascinating," said Bruce, trying to keep his science-boner down.

"I got bored. And then I learned how to astral-project."

The implications dawned. So to speak. 

"OH MY GOD," Tony screamed. "You knew all about modern tech and didn't say a fucking thing!"

" _You troll_ ," said Natasha, dripping with disgust.

Clint gave up. He shot his arrow into the coffee table, and rolled on the floor laughing.

"Do not," said Sam, "say 'no, vampire.'"

"That's how they got the jump on me, so I figured..." Steve shrugged again. 

"More Nosferatu than Bela Lugosi, got it," said Sam. "Do you even eat breakfast? Did I get up at five in the morning to handmake biscuits you didn't even need?"

" _I_ liked your biscuits, Sam," said Natasha. She shot Steve a dirty look.

"You're telling me the whole time you were in the twenty-first century, you've been a vampire,' said Barnes.

"Yeah," said Steve. Tellingly not addressing Sam's glaring concerns. "And um. I suppose... technically, the latter half of the twentieth."

Tony was pointing at a few hundred invisible points. "He's counting the astral projection, are we seeing this? Count Cap is— You saw me in the eighties, didn't you?!"

Clint winced. "Dude, I've seen your magazine covers. They're worse than my posters."

Rhodey kept his commiserations silent, because there was disappointing Captain America, and there was Steve Rogers knowing about that hot minute with the jheri curls.

"NGAUGH." Tony, not so much.

Barnes pouted thoughtfully, seemingly miming the grasp of a small pipe. "Did the vampire thing do something to your colorblindness, because I seem to recall the serum fixing that."

"Cold," Rhodey commented, through a flat synthesized burr.

"What," said Steve. "I... this outfit was in the first locker I opened! I gotta— How do I pay them back if my accounts are frozen? Again?"

"Maybe you should ask a vampire buddy. Or do you need help setting up that nightlife too?" said Natasha.

"Oh my god," Tony continued to whimper. "He _lied_ to me. I explained The Jersey Shore to him!"

"Then he made me carry his ass when he fell off the helicarrier, and the whole time he could fly," Sam told them. "I nearly tore up all these muscle groups. I need these muscle groups!"

"Maybe he needed a spray tan," said Rhodey diplomatically.

"You're telling me I could've just 'assassinated' you, without expending my entire arsenal and damaging my arm and practically leveling a city block," said Barnes, "And you would've just popped back up?"

Thor perked up. "A fine strategy. Can you be electrocuted?" The hammer buzzed.

Steve's face did a goofy constipated-and-appalled thing that proved he didn't practice in a mirror. "I panicked! C'mon man, I had to stop you." (Barnes conceded the point about the rampage.) "And, uhm. Actually I need to, er, a little O-neg lot before I try anything fancy. Like fly. Or come back from the dead."

The living beings in the room recoiled.

"You keep saying 'a little,'" said Sam.

"I do not think that means what you think that means," finished Clint. 

Barnes contemplated that Steve had chosen to stand there, paper-pale and listing woozily, the whole time they were squawking.

"Wait, wait, wait, solutions we've got!" declared Tony. He dived behind the bar. Badly. Rhodey raised the armor on tiptoes to see if he was all right. Tony emerged, having fished out an entire mini-fridge. It hovered. He'd made improvements over the years. "O-neg!"

Steve caught the bag of blood. "Uh. Oo-oh. Thank you."

"Dude, I did not know this would be that kind of party," said Sam.

"To be fair, you knew this was a wake," said Barnes.

"No, ah-ah-ah, this isn't a kegger!" said Tony. He produced a crystal-cut wineglass. 

"Yeah, Steven," snarked Natasha.

"Really, Tony?" said Rhodey, swiveling his torso around.

"Pepper will kill me if I get blood on the floor."

"We are all thinking it," said Thor to Tony. "Why do you have packages of blood at your bar? Is it not for spirits and fresh herbal flavorings? Is this one of those underground Midgardian customs with the strobe lights?"

Steve was pouring blood into the wineglass. Barnes loomed over him, watching the process like a fixated cat.

"Do you need to warm that up?" Bruce inquired. He was recording on his phone.

Thor's expression grew cloudy. "And you swore to me upon your hair metal albums that Bloody Mary's contained no blood!"

"The blood's not for the drinks, it's in case someone gets shot or stabbed in the Tower!" defended Tony.

"It's... it's fine. It's like a milkshake," Steve was saying.

"Were you planning on that, Tony?" said Natasha.

Tony swept open palms at every single weapon-toting Avenger in the room, and emitted a plaintive dolphin-shriek.

"Sorry about this," Steve said to Barnes' unblinking glower.

Barnes was endeavoring for positivity. To a certain degree. "You kidding? I wasn't around the first time you stuck yourself in a pressure cooker. This is a hoot."

Steve started to drink. He made the 'aahhh' sound.

"You sure know how to have fun," Barnes said flatly. "And now I feel slightly less guilty about leaving you on the riverbank without pumping the water out of your lungs first."

Sam crossed his arms. "I bet you could've left him in the river, and he'd have been fine," he groused.

"That's the Potomac," Steve protested between gulps. "Even cleaned up, that's basically swamp gas."

"Okay, for real," said Rhodey. "Blood's only for bonus power-ups, right? It's not _necessary_? Like a relentless craving?" Beside him, Bruce was nodding enthusiastically.

"Uh-huh. First time I've needed a drink so far. I didn't want the intel getting around, and the original serum enhancements were just—" Steve froze. He sniffed the bloodied wineglass. "Wait a minute. Tony, whose blood is this?"

"Uh," said Tony.

"It tastes like coconut!" accused Steve. "Is this _your blood_?"

"Gross," said Sam.

"What, you going to get alcohol poisoning?" said Tony, affronted. 

"You know I can't get—"

"So that particular serum effect carries through?" Bruce interjected.

"...fine vintage, it's got the best anticoagulant money can buy. Heavy metal free, Pepper tests me every five minutes."

"Good for her," said Rhodey.

"No, Tony, it's _your_ blood!" 

"What's the difference if it's me or an anonymous donor?" Tony sniped.

"He's saying it's like unprotected sex," said Clint.

"No glove," said Thor solemnly, "No love."

"It's more of a consent thing," said Natasha. "Gross."

"Hang on, you gonna get a taste for my man Tones, now?" said Rhodey dangerously. The cannon waved in front of Tony.

"How do you know he tastes like coconut?" asked Barnes, mimicking Bruce's detached scientific interest. On the surface.

"He tells everybody he does. It's on his social media profile," said Steve. His color was more lifelike, but he was making a screwed-up yuck-icky face. "And no, I don't have a preference, I just. It's like drinking someone's snot, okay? I'd really rather not, if I have to look you in the eye."

"He's right," said Clint. "That's gross."

"Still not the worst thing I've been caught doing," sing-songed Tony.

Steve scowled like he was trying not to lick the blood sticking to the bottom of the glass. "That's not the point—"

Natasha scoffed. "Oh please. You let me kiss you—"

"'Let' you!?" 

"—without telling me you were a vampire. And Sharon said you tried to kiss her too!"

"I can control myself!" Steve protested.

"Of course you can," said Bruce wearily, and enviously.

"It does explain why you kiss like a corpse," said Natasha.

"Ice cold," said Sam. "Oh, man. Dude. Steve Rogers, were you picking me up so you could sample my plasma?"

"You tried to pick someone up?!" exclaimed Bucky.

"If you don't remember, why are you so surpr— I was not!" Steve denied. "I was trying to make conversation!"

"'On your left,' uh-huh. Lone brother jogging all by himself around the Mall..." said Sam.

"I have seen that movie," said Rhodey.

"I don't need blood to survive! Or a spray tan!"

"That's a relief," said Clint. "But you do need to go a round... with the fashion police."

"Hey-o!" cried Thor, in the manner of the locals.

Steve narrowly missed a splinter when he banged his head on the bar top. "I cannot believe I came back to un-life for this."

  


###  Epilogue

They stuck an LMD in Steve's morgue drawer, after a fraught five minutes and twenty-eight seconds of hammering out the damage from Steve's escape. 

^

Steve got some Hydra-devastation mileage out of pretending to be dead-dead... until he couldn't take Nick Fury's faked-death smugness anymore, and started surfing into missions atop a rampaging Hulk.

^

After Tony's limousine mini-bar was raided by Customs, Sam was almost obliged to join the team, being the only one who could legitimately carry sealed pouches of blood into battle. On the bright side, Steve was obligated to join them for flight training, and Sam got to fling him off tall places without ever worrying about his landing.

^

The Avengers debuted uniforms with high-necked and highly armored collars. Privately the new features doubled as a Body Invigilator and Thermal Energy Regulator. Publicly, they trended on every fashion line for fall.

^

Contemporary examples of the old SSR stylized eagle wings mysteriously transformed into something more bat-like.

^

Tony turned the Tower into a glass-and-steel architectural playground with not a stick of wood anywhere... except for the gigantic oak table in the main conference room.

^

Barnes's new favorite insult was sticking out his metal arm, and deadpanning: "Gnaw on it." 

It killed.


End file.
